


Angel Wings

by Archer973



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Episode 2x13, Episode Tag, F/M, season 2 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:52:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the Season 2 Finale. Some short shots about Carol on Daryl's bike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel Wings

There were walkers everywhere. Carol ran, dodging around them, but more and more kept coming. She couldn’t stop the scream that burst from her lips. She didn’t want to go like this, not ripped apart while her heart still beat. But she was alone. She was always alone. First Ed, then Sophia, then the rest of them. Maybe it was just time to lay down and die.

Then she heard it. Never had she thought she would be so grateful to hear that damned motorcycle’s engine, the one that dared the walkers and come and find him, dared this harsh world to do its worse. That sound was her salvation. She ran towards it, almost weeping with joy.

“Come on now, I ain’t got all day!” In the middle of all this terror he still made her want to smile. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around his waist and hold tight, clinging to him. But she remembered him flinching away from her touch, from a kiss on the forehead, remembered his harsh words and anger. So she contented herself with hands placed so gently on his waist he never felt them and a few grateful tears.

 

It wasn’t comfortable. The bike shook and rattled over the harsh terrain, designed not for dirt roads but the smooth stretch of highway. The butt of his crossbow, slung over his back as always, dug into her stomach, preventing her from holding him tight even if she had dared.

Once they reached smoother roads, she tucked her hands behind her back, unsure if her touch was welcome. They didn’t speak, mostly because they could not have heard each other, but also because there was nothing to say. So she looked at him, looked at his hair being tousled by the wind (he needed a haircut), looked at his callused hands gripping the handlebars. And she looked at his jacket, the leather he always wore. It had wings on it. She smiled.

 

When they found Glenn and Maggie, she was overwhelmed with joy. At least some others had made it. Their presence gave her hope. But it also filled her with sadness. As much as the bike scared her, the safe, quiet back seat of Maggie’s car filled her terror. At least on the bike she had someone, someone who understood her, who knew her. But Daryl road alone. That’s how it had always been.

“I can ride with Glenn now, if-if you want.” The words felt like glass in her throat. Daryl looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I-I know you usually ride alone, so I was just figuring you’d want me in the car, now that we have one.”

He was silent, still looking at her, face unreadable. Then he smiled, the faintest upward tilt of lips. “Nah, I wouldn’t trust that Asian’s drivin’ if he was the last man on earth. You can ride with me, if you want.”

“I’d like that.” _I’d love that._ But she didn’t dare say it, not now. Let him, well, them really, get used to like. She’d worry about love later.

 

Once they met up with the rest, she was sure that he’d direct her towards another car. It was one thing when it was just the two of them, but now with the whole group to see, she didn’t dare even sit close enough to touch him.

But as they went to move out, he offered her his hand, steadying her as she swung astride his hog once more. The bike was still terrifying, the crossbow still uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t have changed her seat for any in the world. She felt warm and safe and, for the first time in a long while, not alone.

So she sat behind him, hands on his waist, and looked at his jacket. Maybe there were angels in this world. But instead of songs and halos, they cussed and carried crossbows. And that was fine by her.


End file.
